


I Met You And Felt You

by QueenOfNewOrleans22



Category: Guns N' Roses
Genre: Angst, First Meetings, Fluff, M/M, Prostitution
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-14
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-18 17:26:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28746909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenOfNewOrleans22/pseuds/QueenOfNewOrleans22
Summary: Duff sighed, and slumped further, if such a thing was even humanely possible at that point, in his seat. He hadn't drunken enough alcohol to give him anything more than a light buzz, but it wasn't pleasant. Rather, it just made him feel worse.
Relationships: Duff McKagan/Slash
Comments: 2
Kudos: 12





	I Met You And Felt You

Duff sighed, and slumped further, if such a thing was even humanely possible at that point, in his seat. He hadn't drunken enough alcohol to give him anything more than a light buzz, but it wasn't pleasant. Rather, it just made him feel worse. 

Just a few weeks ago, Duff had been off, buying a pretty ring at the nearest thrift shop (the only place that was inexpensive enough) but now, the box felt heavy in his pocket, and he was nursing a broken heart. Such things shouldn't be new, but they were hardly a new experience. 

The whiskey burned its way down Duff's throat, and he winced. Although it was cold outside, there was a none-too-pleasant warmth that was seeping through his body that prevented any true chill to reach Duff. He set the empty glass down with a sigh, debating about whether or not he should just go back home. 

What was the point in staying, anyways? Duff was sad and lonely and the alcohol was just making his head hurt. He stood up, slapping a few dollars onto the table before weaving his way through the few people that were gathered around. Duff wanted to go home. He wanted to creep through the apartment and slip under the covers and fall asleep. He didn't want to deal with this heartache anymore - tomorrow, Duff told himself, tomorrow, he would deal with this mess. 

He'd caught a taxi to the bar, but there was none around and so Duff ambled toward a bus stop. The ring, tucked safely within a box, felt like a weight that was pulling him down with each step. Duff had no idea why he hadn't tossed them, but he couldn't muster up the courage needed to toss away thirty dollars and a potential life that had been cut off before it'd even been given a chance to blossom into something real. 

The night was dark, with not even the smallest of stars to light up the sky. A few of the sidewalk lights had blown out, leaving the street bathed in darkness. Duff didn't even have enough money on him to suffice a mugger, but two dollars, his bus fare, could probably get some kid a candy bar or something. Still, Duff glared at the alleyways until he reached the bus stop. He sat down without looking, hands stuffed into the pockets of his jacket. 

Duff figured that he must look a sight - wild bleach-blonde hair, his movements clumsy, having been too caught up to dress properly for such low temperatures and only wearing a thin, old jacket over his day clothes. But, frankly, he didn't give a fuck, and he only hunched over, trying to figure out what he was going to do with his life now. 

In a way, Duff knew that he couldn't blame Mandy, but it still hurt, with her sad, soft rejection ringing through his ears and mind like a broken record, stuck on repeat until the day he died. Duff sighed, too exhausted to cry but still feeling the tears burn his eyes, anyways. 

"What's wrong?" A sudden, startlingly soft voice asked, and Duff lurched up so fast that it made his head swim, his heart beating frantically against his chest as his eyes adjusted to the darkness and ever-faint light. 

As it appeared, Duff had been too caught up in his thoughts to notice that he wasn't alone during this cold, dark night, and that a skinny young man with a veil of curly black hair was sitting beside him. Duff's eyes flickered from the other man's face, and to his cigarette, held between two slender fingers. 

There was a short stretch of silence, and Duff laughed, short and harsh, burying his face in his hands. "Where do I fuckin' start?" He said, feeling the slightest bit of twisted amusement as his own situation. 

"At why you're here in the first place." The man said quietly. 

Duff sniffed - was he crying? There were no tears, anyways. "Well, my girlfriend decided that she didn't want to be married quite so much as I thought." He said. 

"Oh." The man looked down at his knees, seeming to consider that. "Well, at least you know now, huh? Instead of at the aisle." 

Even though it hurt to admit it, Duff nodded. "That's true." He sighed, wiping uselessly at his eyes and underneath them. "It just hurts, y'know? I love her so much, and she says that she loves me but then she says that she doesn't wanna marry me and that she's gonna stay her her parents' and - " He paused, feeling as if he were talking past a huge lump in his throat. 

The man brushed his hair back and smiled. "Well, it took courage for her to say 'no' instead of just agreeing and regretting it later, and it took courage of you to take that first step." 

Duff lifted his shoulders in a weak shrug. "I guess. I'm at a loss, now, though. I don't know what to do." He bit his lip. "So, what are you doing out here?" 

"And that - " The man said. "-isn't much of a question." He shifted, and Duff could've kicked himself, because what else did he expect? The man was severely underdressed for the weather, even more so than Duff. Hell, he wasn't even wearing a shirt underneath his coat. 

"Ahh. Sorry." Duff said, beginning to feel embarrassed. 

"Don't be." The man replied in a light tone, and then he stuck out a hand. "I'm Saul, or Slash, depending on how well you know me." 

Duff took Saul's hand in his own. "Duff." He said. "So, you're going home?" 

"Um, not quite." Saul smiled, perhaps a little uneasily. "I got evicted. So I'm trying to get to New York. That's where my mom lives." 

"That's a long way away." Duff said. 

"Tell me about it." Saul replied, but the attempted nonchalance didn't work, and the creeping anxiety made itself clear. 

Duff debated with himself for a moment, torn between so many things. He stared at Saul, and the bones that poked out painfully from his skin. He felt pity and something like interest pool in his stomach, and Duff made a decision. "I have two bedrooms." He finally said. "You don't have to, but do you wanna come home, get a warm meal in you, before you head off?" He was taking a leap into the unknown, and last time, it'd come back to bite him. 

Startled, Saul stared. "What? I don't wanna be a burden or anything. I'm just gonna catch the bus, find a hotel or something." His stomach growled, interrupting his sentence. 

With a rueful smile, Duff raised his eyebrows. "I know how to make pancakes." 

Saul continued to stare for a moment, and then, finally, he allowed himself to smile back. "My favorite." 


End file.
